All Part of the Plan
by Miss Lavender Sky
Summary: Rory and Logan have been separated for six months now, with Logan in London and Rory still at Yale. She decides to visit him and stay with him, but someone finds out. Someone who doesn't want her to stay- and will do anything to make sure she doesn't.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gilmore Girls, the characters, the show, any of it. I just think it rocks.**

**A/N: This is the first Gilmore Girls story I've done, and the first story i've done in a while, so just tell me what you think (nicely, please)! This is pretty much after the ending of Season 6, when Logan's off in London. Two songs that I think go really well with the story/plot are Imogen Heap's "Clear the Area" and "Have You Got It In You?" if you want something to listen to while you read. I suggest these two. Again, I don't own them, they just rock. Please read and review!!! :]**

Six months. It had been six long months, and Rory couldn't take it anymore. The separation was getting to her this morning, just like it did every morning. She couldn't take it, she really couldn't.

She had been tossing around the idea for a while now. She had a few extra classes to her course- she had more time now that he was in London- and found out she could take a single online course next semester, and she would be able to graduate.

Which meant that she could leave Yale. She could still graduate from Yale, and she could fly to London.

She looked online, and found that the next flight out would be tomorrow. She quickly did the math. If she took that flight, she could probably get to Logan's apartment around eleven at night. Hopefully, he'd be there.

She picked up the phone and dialed. "Paris?"

The answer she heard was sharp. "Yes?"

"Hey, I was just letting you know that I won't be at the newsroom tomorrow." Rory paused. "Maybe not for a few weeks. Or maybe- I don't know."

"Why? Is everything alright at home?" Paris asked, concerned. Though sometimes hardhearted, Paris knew the kind of crazy life she had with Lorelai and her grandparents.

"Yeah, everything's fine. It's just- I'm going to see Logan."

"In London?" Paris asked.

"Yes, Paris, in London. That's where he sort of lives," replied Rory, rolling her eyes.

"Why?" asked Paris bluntly.

"Because I miss him," said Rory. "I love him. And the thing is, I've figured out that if I take two courses online, I can still graduate in the spring."

"You're not thinking of _moving_ there, are you?" demanded Paris.

"Well-"

"Rory! You can't do this! You're just going to go off for a guy? And leave Yale? Do you know what this says about us? It says that women are just supposed to follow a man into whatever he's doing, and just completely forget whatever kind of goals and careers _they_ have-"

"Paris!" Rory said.

"What? I'm just saying that you don't even-"

"It's not final yet," Rory said. "It's just a consideration. A back-up plan. We'll see."

"We'll see?" Paris repeated.

"Yes, we'll see," said Rory. "Now, I have to go to the airport tomorrow, but I was just wondering if you or Doyle could tell people at the newsroom that I wouldn't be there for a while, and while I'm gone, you two are in charge." She paused. "And I do mean _both_ of you. The dictatorship is out, Paris."

"Geez, harsh," said Paris. "But yes, I will inform everyone. Doyle and I are just heading over there to turn in a couple things and grab Doyle's folder- which he forgot again. We'll just tell everyone then."

"Thanks, Paris," said Rory. "And thank Doyle for me too."

"Will do," said Paris. "Have fun on your trip. Tell Huntzberger I said hi."

"Will do," Rory replied. "Thanks, Paris."

"Bye, Rory."

"Bye, Paris."

* * *

"She's going." The voice on the phone was whispered.

"How long?" This voice was crackley, scratchy, demanding.

"I don't know. At least a few weeks. Maybe more."

"That means she staying." The demanding voice sighed. "Thank you. Call me again if you have any more information."

"Yes, sir," said the whispered voice.

The whispered voice hung up, and the scratchy voice spoke again as another call was dialed. "Yes, hello?" it said.

"Hello." This voice had a normal tone, but still sounded menacing, scary.

"You remember what I told you a few weeks ago?" asked the scratchy voice.

"Yes."

"Well, it's happening. Find her."

"Yes, sir."

And then they both hung up.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gilmore Girls, the characters, the show, any of it. I just think it rocks.**

**A/N: This is the first Gilmore Girls story I've done, and the first story i've done in a while, so just tell me what you think (nicely, please)! This is pretty much after the ending of Season 6, when Logan's off in London. Two songs that I think go really well with the story/plot are Imogen Heap's "Clear the Area" and "Have You Got It In You?" if you want something to listen to while you read. I suggest these two. Again, I don't own them, they just rock. Please read and review!!! :]**

Rory walked along the sidewalk, searching for the right number. It was dark outside and she could barely see the number scrawled on the tiny Post-It she had.

And the streets were empty. Why were the streets empty? They shouldn't be. This was London- why was no one out?

A wind picked up, and she froze. The eerie sound of rustling branches was scaring her. She quickened her pace, knowing that everything would be fine once she found Logan's place.

Finally, the number caught her eye.

"Yes!" she whispered, double-checking the Post-It before cramming it into her coat pocket.

She walked up the steps carefully, afraid of making noise. The atmosphere was so silent, aside from the wind, that she felt intrusive making even such a slight noise as a footstep. There were no human noises around.

But then there was. A footstep. Or a crunch. Or something, she was sure of it. She looked around quickly, scanning the streets for some sign of life, but found nothing. She seemed truly alone.

She shuddered slightly in the breeze. She had to stop freaking out. She was going to see Logan. Everything would be fine. Everything would be alright.

There were only three steps and a door keeping her and Logan away from each other now. Not 5,000 miles. Not an entire ocean. Not even the indestructible willpower of Mitchum Huntzberger.

Just three steps and a door.

At the first step, she thought she heard someone breathing sharply.

At the second, she heard a footstep, another one.

At the third, she thought she saw a shadow.

As she raised her hand to knock, shaking with fright, she saw a face.

And then she saw nothing at all.

* * *

Logan sat up straight. He thought he heard something. A muffled shriek or a yell.

He shook his head. It was more likely that the Roberts next door were trying to get their kid to go to sleep again, which was always a noisy ordeal.

He rubbed his forehead, knowing that he was exhausted and should go to bed, but also knowing that he didn't really have the heart to.

He was so tired of all of this. Of waking up at eight to be at the office by nine. Of having coffee instead of breakfasts. Having business meetings instead of dates. Seeing workers and accountants instead of Rory.

He was sick of not seeing Rory. That was the one feeling that had stuck with him these past six months. He had seen her once in November, for Thanksgiving dinner, which he'd had to cut short due to some business meeting his father had set up. He hadn't even gotten to see her at Christmas, because his father had had a business trip set up for the entire two weeks of break. Instead of seeing Rory, he had sat at some cold, boring room for Christmas Eve.

He hadn't seen her since November, and it had been over two months since he'd even seen her. He couldn't stand it. The only thing that kept him barely sane were the weekly talks he'd had with her every Thursday night.

He glanced at the clock. 11:00. It was a little late, and she still hadn't called him yet. That was strange. She never missed their Thursday call, not in the six months they'd been apart.

He picked up his cell and checked. No missed calls. No messages. He dialed her number quickly. He waited for three rings, knowing the answering machine would come on. At least he could hear her voice.

As the phone rang, he glanced around the room, around the walls, out the window. He narrowed his eyes, seeing something white flitting in the wind. A piece of paper.

He quickly walked outside, and got the paper off the wall by the window, and read it.

_You wanna see Rory again? Then we'll have to make a little deal. Because otherwise, you won't be seeing her for quite a long time._

There was a number to dial as well.

Logan stared at the note, the phone still ringing in his ear as he waited for Rory to answer the phone. Finally the ringing stopped. _"I'm sorry_," came the voice from the phone. _"This number has been disconnected."_

And then there was a dial tone.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gilmore Girls, the characters, the show, any of it. I just think it rocks.**

**A/N: This is the first Gilmore Girls story I've done, and the first story i've done in a while, so just tell me what you think (nicely, please)! This is pretty much after the ending of Season 6, when Logan's off in London. Two songs that I think go really well with the story/plot are Imogen Heap's "Clear the Area" and "Have You Got It In You?" if you want something to listen to while you read. I suggest these two. Again, I don't own them, they just rock. Please read and review!!! :]**

The next morning, he was on the first flight back to Hartford. He had caught the Red Eye from London to New York, and was now almost home.

The moment he got out of the car, he sprinted towards the apartment- their apartment and commenced to banging on the door.

He waited, expecting her to open it, yell at him for banging on the door too loudly and too early in the morning, and demand coffee as compensation.

But she never did. For ten minutes, he banged on that door. But she never answered.

He slammed the door with his fist, then ran to the newsroom. She wasn't there. He ran to Paris and Doyle's apartment, but she wasn't there either.

He slumped against the wall and pounded the stone floor.

The clack of heels made him look up, seeing an annoyed Paris.

"Oh, Paris, good, you're here! Is Rory with you?" he asked in a rush.

Paris narrowed her eyes. "Do you see Rory with me? Do you see anyone with me? Or do you think Rory has suddenly become invisible, and everyone but me knows it? Hmm?"

"No, it's not that, it's just- Have you seen Rory? Is she here? Wither her mom? Stars Hollow? Her grandparents?" he asked.

"No," Paris said. "She caught a plane last night to London. I figured she'd be at your place late last night, maybe eleven-ish."

"Oh, no, no, no. _No!_" He slammed his fist into Paris' door.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't try and kill my door. I need it still standing to live here, thanks." She eyed him quizzically. "What's your problem, anyway? Didn't she come see you?"

Logan grimaced. "No. Well, maybe she tried. I found this outside my apartment. About eleven last night."

He pulled the note out of his coat pocket, and watched Paris as she read it. "You're sure this thing is legit?" she asked.

"Well, it was on my doorstep, and there was no Rory. If she was supposed to be there around eleven, that must have been when this went up. I got home at ten thirty last night, ad I found this about five after eleven."

"So we have a window of about a half hour," said Paris. "Someone kidnapped Rory at your doorstep?"

"Or from the airport, either here or in London. I have no idea," Logan said.

"I'm calling Lorelai," said Paris.

"No, don't call her, please!" Logan pleaded.

Paris narrowed her eyes at him. "Rory is her _daughter_. You don't think she'd want to know that she's missing?"

Logan sighed. "She's just going to be freaking out. We don't need another person freaking out."

"You're the only one freaking out here. I'm not. I'm staying calm and collected. I'm calling Lorelai to see when the last time she heard from Rory was, not to tattle on you." She paused. "I'll make you a deal. I will ask her when she heard from her, but I won't say anything to her if you have something by the end of the day. If not, I'm telling Lorelai, and we're calling the police."

"Fine," said Logan, his lips tight as Paris dialed a number on her cell.

"Hi, Lorelai, it's Paris. Mmmhmm. Yep, yeah. Actually, about that, I was wondering, when was the last time you heard from Rory?" There was a pause, and Logan could hear Lorelai talking. "Right, yeah. No, I just wanted to make sure she got there. Yeah, she must've turned off her cell. Okay, thanks, Lorelai. Bye."

Paris turned to Logan, slipping her phone back into her bag. "The last time she heard from her was when she was in the airport last night, around ten forty."

"Ten forty?" Logan ran his fingers through his hair, thinking.

"Yes, she said she was going to walk to your apartment since it was close by," Paris said quietly. "And Lorelai gave me the specific time that they hung up. She said it was ten fifty two, which she says she remembers because 1,052 is her favorite number, but I doubt that's true."

"Ten fifty two?" Logan repeated.

Paris nodded.

Logan closed his eyes, and let out a sharp breath. She must've been right outside his house. _Right outside._ Someone would have had to have been waiting for her. That noise he had heard last night, it hadn't been the Roberts. It had been her. If only he'd thought to go outside then, instead of brushing it aside. He could've saved her.

"Hey, there!" said Paris sharply, waving her hand in front of his face. "Stop spacing out. We have to fix this."

Logan nodded. "She must be in London."

"No, duh, Sherlock," said Paris. "The point is that we have to find her in London."

"_I_ have to find her in London. You have to stay here," Logan said.

"Why shouldn't I be able to come? Rory's my best friend, and if you think-"

"Paris, I need you here in case anything comes up here, or you hear anything," Logan said. "I'm going to fly back to London, and see if I can figure anything out. Keep your cell on and, and call me if you find anything out," he said.

"I will," said Paris. "And I'll look for clues here. Do you have a key to her apartment? Or your apartment, whatever?"

Logan pulled a key out of his pocket, but looked reluctant to give it to her.

"I'm not kidnapping her, Logan. You can give me the key," she snapped.

"Right, sorry," he said, handing over the key. "Be careful, Paris."

"You too," she replied. "And don't worry, we'll find her."

"Yes," Logan said. "We will."


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gilmore Girls, the characters, the show, any of it. I just think it rocks.**

**A/N: This is the first Gilmore Girls story I've done, and the first story i've done in a while, so just tell me what you think (nicely, please)! This is pretty much after the ending of Season 6, when Logan's off in London. Two songs that I think go really well with the story/plot are Imogen Heap's "Clear the Area" and "Have You Got It In You?" if you want something to listen to while you read. I suggest these two. Again, I don't own them, they just rock. Please read and review!!! :]**

Logan walked back up the steps to his apartment carefully, slowly. Each step he took with precision, his eyes scanning the steps, the walls, the leaves in the bushes, searching for any sort of clue.

Nothing.

Until he got to the top step, and looked at the ground between the wall and his front door. Nestled in the corner was a small, single pearl button. He instantly recalled the coat it belonged to- it was his favorite coat of hers, and she knew how much he loved it when she wore it. And this was the button.

Which meant that he'd been right. She had been right here when it had happened. A single door had separated them, and had kept them separated, and was keeping her away from him and with some kidnapper.

He groaned and hit the door. As he did so, a small, neatly rolled up note dropped to the ground from where it had been perched on the doorknob. He picked it up cautiously and opened it.

_Yes, this is real. And I do have her. Give me a call if you want to see her again._

Again, the number was listed underneath the words.

Logan took a deep breath and dialed as he entered the apartment, quickly scanning the room to make sure that the kidnapper wasn't present.

The person picked up after one ring. "Hello, Logan." The voice, though calm, was menacing, frightening.

"Where is she?" Logan said tersely.

"Don't be so testy with me, Logan," said the voice. "She's with me. She's safe, for right now."

"She can't possibly be safe with some sick person like you!" Logan snapped into the phone. "Where is she?" he demanded.

"Not so fast," said the voice on the other line. "I'm not just going to tell you where she is. That would make things so much less fun."

"Where _is_ she?" Logan demanded again.

"Oh, I won't be telling you that," said the voice. "At least not until you do something for me."

"What? What is it?" said Logan. "You want money? You got it."

"No," said the voice. "Not money. I know how easy that is for you to get, Logan." There was a pause. "I know," said the voice. "I want you to fly to Tokyo, and find the largest newspaper there. The main office will be in Tokyo, I'm sure. When you're there, I want you to take all of the files from the year 1981. Once you have them, call me back. We'll go from there."

Logan nodded slowly. He didn't know what he was getting himself into, but it was worth it if it would make Rory safe again.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey, Paris."

"Where are you, Huntzberger?" Paris' shrill voice demanded.

"Tokyo."

"You're in Tokyo? You irresponsible jerk! Rory's been kidnapped, and you're in Tokyo?! You get back here now, or I am going to fly over there and kick your-"

"I called the kidnapper," Logan said. "He told me to come to Tokyo and track down some old newspaper articles. Then I'm supposed to call him back."

"You talked to him?"

"Yes."

"You talked to the psychopath who kidnapped your girlfriend and my best friend and went to Tokyo because he told you to? We _know_ she's in London. And you left London! What are you, some kind of idiot?" she screeched at him.

"Paris, the faster I can get this done, the faster I can call him back, and we can get this settled, and we can get her home," Logan said.

"Did you offer him money? Because we'll pay the money. Or you'll pay the money. I know you can pay the money, Huntzberger, so you'd better-"

"I offered him money, Paris, and he didn't take it," Logan said.

"Oh. Alright then."

"Well, anyway, I'm here, and I think I've found the file he was looking for," said Logan. "I'm going to call him now, and figure out what comes next."

"Okay," said Paris. "But this time, call me right away."

"I will. Bye, Paris," said Logan.

"Bye, Huntzberger."

Logan hung up and redialed the number from the slip of paper in his pocket.

"Hello, Logan. Found the file?" came the voice.

"Yes," said Logan, his temper flaring up again. "Now can I have Rory back?"

"No, not yet," said the voice. "There's this one little place in Sydney- big newspaper press- and I want all the files from 1996."

"What? Why?" Logan shook his head.

"Maybe you'll see once you put it altogether," said the voice. "Call me when you've finished."

A dial tone rang in Logan's ears as he grabbed his bag and the file from Tokyo, and caught a taxi cab to the airport.

* * *

Sydney's newsrooms weren't that hard to get into. Just a couple bills in the right hands got him in no problem. And he located the file easily. It was time for the phone call.

"Hello, Logan. Still playing?" said the voice.

"This isn't a game," he said. "This is about getting Rory back."

"But you can quit anytime you want," said the voice. "Just go back to your job, be the good boy, and everything will be the same."

"No, everything won't be the same!" Logan shouted into the phone. "Because I won't have Rory. Just tell me what I have to do next."

"Go back to London, and get the newest edition of the paper from your father's office. Read the papers," said the voice. "Call me back."

Again, the dial tone was the only sound he heard.

Logan groaned, and soon enough, he was on a flight back to London. He was through the doors of the office in seconds and rushed to the front desk and snatched a copy, scaring the secretary half to death, but he didn't care.

He took the two files that he'd gotten from Tokyo and from Sydney and put the newest paper on top of the stack. And then he began to read them.

The first one, the file from Tokyo, was all about family. There was an article on the importance of family value, one on keeping connected to your family, one on legacies within the family, one on keeping up family traditions.

The file from Sydney was all about dedication and work ethic. How hard one person worked for this dream, for that dream, why they work hard, how they learn to work hard, why it's important to work hard.

The last paper, the one from his dad's office caught his eye, and everything finally sunk in. The front page showed a picture of him and his father standing side by side, and the article read, "Father and Son Finally United in the Press!"

Logan's eyes narrowed.

The phone rang, and he quickly answered it.

"Logan? It's Paris. I think I have an idea of what's going on here," she said.

"Yeah? Well, me too," Logan said, livid.

"I found this little twerp hanging around in the office. He's a Freshman, total newbie on the staff. He says your _father_ has been paying him very well to hear what Rory's been up to these part couple of months. I don't know why, but I'm pretty sure that's how someone figured out where Rory was that night."

"Oh, I think I know why, Paris," said Logan, his voice hard. "These newspaper trips I've been sent on? They all lead to my father. My father and dedication and family values."

"He's insane," said Paris. "I'm going to kill him. I am going to fly over there, track him down, and kill him."

Logan looked up, and his eyes narrowed again. "Well, Paris, you might not get the chance. Because he's here now, and I might beat you to it."

**A/N: Thank you all for reading and reviewing! It means so much! More up soon! :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Gilmore Girls, the characters, or any of it.**

**A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, you guys! It means a lot. Hopefully, I will get another chapter or two up tonight, and maybe finish it within the week. Then maybe another story for next week. Thanks so much, you guys! :D**

Mitchum walked through the doors of the Huntzberger Press determined and resolved to get to the bottom of everything, and cover up what was necessary. To fix the problem with as little mess as possible. Which means he had to find someone.

Turning the corner, he saw the one person he expected to see. Any other time, Logan's presence in the office would have been welcome, as he was accepting his role in the company. But not now, when Mitchum knew everything that was going on. He knew that Logan didn't have all the facts, and as such, would be furious with him. Afraid of the rage he knew would eventually outmatch even his own, Mitchum warily walked over to his son, who, he could see, was positively seething. Not that he didn't know why. The whole set-up, all of it was his fault. He hadn't meant for it to happen, but of course it was his fault. He knew Logan would see it that way.

"Logan-" he started.

"How could you?" Logan demanded. "Rory? You _kidnapped_ Rory?" His son was practically spitting fire as he stood before him. Mitchum looked at the papers he had out in front of him, and knew what he was thinking. He'd memorized those papers ages ago, when he was going to have Logan research them to become more involved at the press. And now they were being used in this sick plan. Logan knew that it all came down to him.

"Logan-" he began again, but his son cut him off once more.

"Really? You _kidnapped_ my girlfriend to prove a point to me? You realize that's illegal, right?" Logan was shouting. "You realize what you've done? That you're going to jail? That-"

"_Logan!_" Mitchum thundered.

Logan clamped his mouth shut, furious.

"I didn't kidnap Rory," he said calmly.

"Oh, right," said Logan.

"I _didn't_," repeated Mitchum. "But I think I know who did."

There was silence between the two, until Logan, tersely cut it, "Don't just stand there. Tell me where she is!"

Micthum Huntzberger sat down in the chair beside Logan's desk, and sighed. "There was this man…"

* * *

Rory opened her eyes. She didn't know where she was, but it was dark and smelled of ink. She heard the whirring of machinery and the chatter of people above her. Wherever she was, she must have been below grounds.

She stood up, aching all over. She must have been in some small, tight space for too long while she was unconscious, because she could barely stand. She reached up and started banging on the ceiling, hoping that someone on a higher floor would hear her.

"Help!" she screamed. "Help! _Help!_"

"That won't work," said a voice from the corner, making Rory jump in fright.

She looked over to see a man, about middle-aged and well-dressed, sitting on a chair, watching her.

"What?" she said, her voice quivering.

"They won't hear you," the man said. "I've been up there, and it's basically impossible to hear anything up there, especially with all the business going on."

"Where am I?" she asked.

"Why tell you that?" said the man. "That's no fun."

"What are you doing? Why am I here? Who are you, you sick jerk?" Rory demanded.

"I'm just doing my job," said the man.

"Your _job_?" repeated Rory. "Who told you to kidnap me?"

"It was more of an implicit direction," mused the man. "But I knew what was meant by it. You see, Logan can't-"

"Logan? You leave him out of this!" Rory shouted at the man.

"Oh, but this is all about Logan," said the man, spreading out his arms. "The kidnapping, the hiding, the messages we've been sending him- it was all part of the plan."

"The plan?" Rory asked. "What plan?"

The man laughed.

"_What plan?_" Rory demanded.

The man laughed again as someone came up behind Rory and knocked her out cold again.


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Gilmore Girls, the characters, any of it. Sadly.**

**A/N: Thank you so much for all of your reviews! They mean so much to me! Tell me whatcha think. ;D**

"There was a man that I had hired to keep you on track this whole time you've been here," Mitchum began. "To keep you focused and working. You know Eric?"

"Yeah," said Logan. He paused. "You hired Eric to spy on me for the past six months?"

"No, not spy," said Mitchum. "But I was gone a lot of the time, and I had to make sure you kept working. You don't realize how hard it is for me to get you to work, Logan."

Logan leaned back in his chair and sighed.

"Well, Eric was supposed to keep you motivated here, and it was working pretty well," said Mitchum. "And then I heard from someone at Yale that Rory was coming-"

"You knew she was coming?" Logan demanded, his eyes darkening. "How did you know?"

"Well, I've had to keep tabs on her too," Mitchum said.

"You've been spying on Rory?" Logan demanded, growing furious again.

"Just to see if she was going to do something to mess up everything you've done so far!" Mitchum said. "To see if she was going to try and drag you away from your work and your career. I knew you would go running back to her if she wanted you to."

"The Freshman," Logan said. "At the newspaper. You conned him into helping you spy on Rory. He called you and told you, and then what?"

"And then I sent Eric to go to her," said Mitchum.

"You sent Eric to go kidnap Rory?" Logan said.

"Don't be ridiculous, Logan!" Mitchum thundered. "You don't think I'm above kidnapping a girl to keep you working?" He exhaled sharply. "I told Eric to convince her that it would be best for you if she were to go home, and let you finish out the rest of the year. That was what he was supposed to do."

"He didn't, though," said Logan sharply. "You sent him after her, and he kidnapped her. That's what _did_ happen. And now you've got to fix it."

Mitchum nodded tersely. "Yes," he said. "You're right. I'm calling Eric right now."

He pulled out his phone and began dialing. Logan was caught in a delicate balance between furious and sick with worry.

"Hello, Eric," said Mitchum. There was a pause. "No, everything is _not_ going according to plan!" he said angrily. "The point was to _keep_ Logan working, not to drag him away so that he could go find someone that wasn't even supposed to be missing in the first place! You kidnapped a girl, Eric! I can't have you spoiling our reputation like this! Now, bring her back here now!" There was a pause. "No, now! Eric, I told you to bring her here!" He hung up, frustrated. He turned to Logan. "He's asking for ransom now. Because he knows he's getting fired when this all gets out."

"Ransom?" said Logan. "Fine, then we'll pay it! Let's just get her back!"

"We're not going to pay it," said Mitchum.

"Yes, we are," said Logan forcefully.

"No, Logan, we're not," said Mitchum. "You don't understand. Eric knows what's going to happen after this. He's not going to have a job after this, he knows that people will be out looking for him, and he knows that he's going to prison the second we have Rory back. So, he won't give her back. He'll keep on giving demands, and he won't let Rory go."

"Well, isn't it worth a try, at least?" Logan asked, desperate.

"No," said Mitchum. "We'll keep looking for them, but-"

"But nothing," Logan spat. He grabbed his coat and walked out. "I'm going to go find her."

"Logan, wait-" Mitchum called.

But he was already gone.


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Gilmore Girls, the characters, any of it. Sadly.**

**A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews! They mean sooooooo much! Two song suggestions for this chapter are "Only One" by Yellowcard (for the first part) and "The Scientist" by Coldplay (for the second half). Please read and review! ;D**

It was raining now, hard. Logan was running up and down the streets of London, asking every poor drenched stranger he met if they had seen her, showing them a picture as he did so. But none of them had.

But he wouldn't give up. Not at one o'clock in the morning, not when the rain had drenched him straight through and he was freezing and shaking. Not until he had found her.

Through the torrential downpour around him, he heard a slight beep, a sounds unnatural for the place and the time. After the second beep, he realized it was coming from his pocket, from his phone. He looked at it quickly- unknown caller. He braced himself for the rage that would come should it be Eric. But he still had to answer it.

He flipped it open quickly. "Hello?" He tensed, waiting for the reply.

"Logan! Logan!" called the voice.

"Rory?" Logan replied. "Rory! Where are you?"

"It's the basement- some kind of dark place- no windows- newspaper place!" she shouted into the phone. Her voice was cutting in and out, and she sounded scared and hurt. It killed him that this was happening to her.

"I'm coming to get you, Rory!" he shouted above the rain. "I'm coming to get you! It'll be okay. I'm coming! Keep talking to me!" he shouted at her.

"Logan, I don't know what's going on, but these men-"

"There's more than one?" asked Logan.

"Yes, they're- No, stop! Stop-" There were shouts in the background, and sounds of a struggle going on.

"Rory! Rory!" Logan shouted into the phone. "Rory!"

"I love you, Logan," came her soft reply, and then someone cut off the receiver.

He stared at the phone in shock. He had no idea of what just happened.

But she was there, and she was alright. At least, she had been until whoever it was that was keeping her there had caught her on the phone. But she had to be alright. She just _had_ to be.

He focused on the clues he had given her. It was someplace with a basement, someplace that Eric would have access to. And she had said something about newspapers.

He thought hard for a moment before coming to the realization. He looked up at the street sign above him. He was only about a block away. He could get there soon- hopefully soon enough. It had to be soon enough.

He took off in the direction he knew would be the right one- the direction he had taken so often when he was younger, when he wanted to get away- and thought of nothing but Rory. Every time he felt a rain drop on his shoulder, he saw her face. And every time his foot hit the ground, he thought of saving her.

* * *

The path to the building was all too familiar to him. He saw the street corner where the man had always sold him a candy bar as he snuck out. The tree that he would always hide in when his father came looking for him. The house where the man that would always yell at him for running on his lawn lived. They were all there.

When he was younger, his father had always expected him to be fully immersed in the journalism business. And secretly, he was. But not the way his father did it. Not by frightening, threatening, yelling. He had suffered through that for over twenty years. Never would he use that kind of force on anyone else.

He remembered the first time he came here. It had been when he was seven, and his father had first expressed direct interest in his taking over the business. Logan accompanied him to London, where he had sat through days and days of boring lectures and meetings and interviews and watching his father yell at and coerce everyone around him.

Then one day, when it was raining outside, and they hadn't had lunch yet, even though it was the middle of the afternoon- Logan remembered all of this very distinctly- he had turned to his father and said, "This is boring. I hate this."

And then his father had turned to him and said, "This is your life now, son. And it always will be."

And at that moment, with nothing but meetings and papers in front of him, Logan panicked. And he ran.

He ran straight out the door, around the corner, down the block, turned left and kept running.

There was a building in front of him, and it had his name on it- his last name at least. It was like it was a safe haven built especially for him. A place to run and hide from the atrocities of the world, and of the cruelties of a life of responsibility.

On every trip to London, he had spent at least a couple hours there. There he could relive his childhood and the idea that running away and hiding from his father's expectations was always a welcome one. He could feel justified in leaving the world behind.

But not it had become a place of nightmares. It was the place that kept his safety and security away from him now. The place that had sheltered him from responsibility was now dragging him into the biggest mess of all.

And he had to face it.


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gilmore Girls, the characters, any of it. And that fact makes me sad.**

**A/N: AAHH! Your reviews make me smile! You guys are amazing!!! Thank you so much!!! Okay, so there probably won't be too many chapter left, but maybe I'll start on another story. Tell me if you think I should. Please read and review! It means so much!!! :D**

The front door to the building was propped open. They were waiting for him.

He shook his head, going instead around the side of the building, where he remembered his secret entrance into the building.

He pushed aside the rock that covered the window he was so used to sneaking through, trying to shake the rainwater out of his face as he did so.

With the rock out of his way, it was only a matter of opening the hatch of the window. He snatched at the edges, but years of being left alone had rusted it shut. Finally, he took out a small pocketknife that he had bought with Colin and Finn on some safari they'd done years ago. He'd never used it, but he kept it with him. He stuck the blade under the window and yanked.

A sharp crack rang and the window flipped open. He attempted to stick his blade back into its case, but pushing it under the window had permanently dented its shape. He didn't care. He kept it in his hand as he slunk through the window and into the basement.

He blinked in the darkness and the silence.

A small noise startled him as he saw a figure move towards him.

"Logan?"

"Rory?" he asked. The figure stepped into the light let in by the window, and his heart nearly burst. He ached that she looked so tired and worn out and battered and scared. But she was here, and he could keep her safe from now on, and that made his heart soar.

"It's okay, Rory, I've got you now," he whispered, and began to lead her to the window.

Suddenly, the darkness closed back in on them as someone stepped in the way of the window.

"Not that easy," said the voice, which he didn't recognize.

Then came the turn of a lock from the other side of a room. A dim light shone now, as someone had turned it on.

Eric was standing by the now-locked door, key in hand, grinning wickedly.

"I believe you owe me a little something for that one," said Eric, motioning at Rory.

"I'm not giving you money," said Logan. "But I am taking her."

"Don't be so sure of that," said Eric. Another figure now stepped in between Logan and Rory and the exit.

Two others stood beside the man by the window. They were outnumbered five to two.

Logan was thinking as quickly as he possibly could, but he saw no way out of this. He couldn't believe he had been so stupid to come like this, alone and without a plan to get her out. He thought it would've been so easy.

He saw Eric give the other men a little nod of the head, and soon all five of them were closing in on the couple.

Logan tensed, and stood straight, pushing Rory slightly behind him. He slipped his dented, battered pocketknife into her hand and whispered under his breath, "Don't worry about what happens to me. Get yourself out of here."

"Logan," she whispered, her voice shaking dangerously.

"It's okay," he said. "I love you, Ace."

"I love you too," she whispered back.

Then they turned to face the men closing in on them.

Logan took a deep breath, trying to figure out what he could do. He looked at the three to his left. He would throw himself in that direction, punching and kicking every inch of person he could. Hopefully, he would be able to take down the other two before they got to Rory. If not, at least she had the knife. Hopefully, everything would turn out alright.

He would count to three, and then he would dive right into the chaos and pray that Rory made it out okay.

_1…2…_

"Aahh!" Suddenly, the door came crashing down with an enormous thud at the hands of someone yelling like a lunatic.

Everyone turned to look at Paris, standing in the entrance to the basement, backed by about eight or nine policemen, armed and determined.

Logan grinned. Paris had pulled through. He didn't know how, but somehow she had. He glanced at the men. They seemed more afraid of Paris than the policemen. Not that Logan usually ever felt differently.

He grabbed Rory's wrist, and pulled her back, around to where Paris and the policemen were. It was safer there. It would be safer now, for all of them.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Okay, I know I haven't updated in ages and ages, and I'm sorry. I had thought about kind of ending it there, but then I thought this would be more fun. So this will guarantee at least another three chapters, and they will be up soon, I promise! Reviews are always lovely! They make my day, and they make me write more. Please forgive me for taking such a long break, so here you go. :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't owl Gilmore Girls or the characters (but wouldn't it be fabulous if I did?).**

Logan opened his eyes suddenly, wondering what this feeling of anxiety, of dread, of sheer terror that had washed over him was. He waited a moment, his eyes taking in the blackness of the room he was in before it all came rushing back to him.

He was in London. He had been rescuing Rory, who had been kidnapped. He had tried to fight them off, hoping to let her escape.

His memory was coming to him in flashes. There was a knife, battered and beaten like it'd been run over by a train.

A man. Vaguely familiar. Someone who made him feel hate. Eric.

Being surrounded by so many people, hope that things would turn out alright vanishing.

A loud noise, a door being kicked open. Policemen, and Paris, looking like she had missed her calling as a crusader as she led the police towards the men.

He wondered if it was all a dream until he remembered seeing Rory.

Rory, looking pale and scared, her eyes looking to him to make her safe again.

And now, looking around him in the darkness, he realized that he hadn't.

* * *

Rory paced, not bothering to look at anything, just thinking, trying to figure out what to do, trying to figure out how to fix things.

"Hey, _Rory!_ Stop pacing!" Paris screeched. "You're making me nervous, and I can't be nervous. Because if I'm nervous, then I would have to go to my craft table, and do you see a craft table here? 'Cause I don't! All I see is a room full of people who can't even manage to go along with the freaking plan and keep it together!" She scowled at the police officers around the station. They had stayed there for the past few hours, trying to give the police any clues they could possibly think of.

A few of them glanced at her, but most of them ignored her. In the four hours they'd been there, most of the station had heard several insults, expletives, and rather uncalled for name-calling.

"I'm going home," said Mitchum, standing up from his post near the front of the station. He'd been eager to leave since he'd gotten there, but Rory had made him stay, grilling him for anything that might lead them to where Eric had taken Logan.

During the scuffle, the men that had been working with Eric had surrounded Rory and Logan. One of them had knocked her out of the way, and then she remembered seeing Logan for a brief second before he had vanished. When the mess had cleared and the men had been handcuffed, Logan and Eric were nowhere to be found.

Eric had taken Logan in the midst of everything, and had managed to pull Rory away from him once again.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Okay, so I'd really like to hear your thoughts on this one- it is a bit longer, but we do start getting clues as to whose behind it. So I'd like to hear if you guys have any more guesses, and it is someone we know! Enjoy. (:**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls or the characters (but wouldn't it be fabulous if I did?).**

Now it was Paris' turn to pace. She had been yelling at the officers in London's police department for over an hour, and now it had seemed that she'd run out of steam (though Rory had always hypothesized that Paris could never truly run out of steam when it came to insulting and yelling at innocent people).

Rory had been trying to focus on her statement, writing down every detail she could remember from the pas few days, every thing she knew about Eric and Logan's connections to him, but she could hardly focus with Paris' heels click-clacking along the tile surface of the station's tile floor.

"Paris!" she said. "_You_ stop pacing now! You told me to stop, and I did, but now you are, and you've got to stop!"

Paris looked at her. "I am trying to figure out what is going on here, how some idiot of an employee could manage to run off with Huntzberger, something these _imbeciles_-" The officers looked at her, irritation on each of their faces, since they knew that any insult from this woman was clearly meant for them. "-can't seem to do anything right, or, Heaven forbid, do their freaking job."

She continued pacing, her heels click-clacking until Rory thought she was going to crazy.

Finally, mercifully, the click-clacking, the pacing, the insulting stopped. Paris looked at her watch. "I have to go," she announced. She turned to Rory. "I have somewhere to be right now," she said.

Rory frowned. "Where?"

"I'm meeting with someone," said Paris, shrugging off Rory's question. "But I have my cell on. Call me if the bumbling morons over there manage to think of any way to get Huntzberger back. Or if you think of anything else to add to your statement. I say, it's more likely that the two of us find him than them, so keep me updated."

Rory nodded, sinking back into her chair, searching every part of her brain for a clue as to where she could find Logan.

* * *

Logan had spent enough time with Eric to know that he wasn't any kind of genius. Especially not enough of a genius to pull of this. To plot and plan a kidnapping with that much precision, then to evade the cops with another person in tow. There was someone working with him, or someone helping him get through this. But Logan couldn't figure out why, or who.

He sat on that cold, hard floor until he heard a sound coming from the opposite wall. Someone was thudding around up there- the sound was that of footsteps on stairs- and they were coming down. Which meant that he was in a basement of some sort. Well, he could've already guessed that.

The squeaking of a door alerted him that the person he'd heard was now with him. With the flick of a switch, a dim lightbulb in the middle of the room sprang to life.

Logan hoped it wasn't Eric, hoped it was the someone who had planned the whole scheme, hoped it was someone he could get information out of.

Sadly, the familiar face came into focus, and Logan realized that he was, once again, in the presence of his father's dimwitted ex-employee. He sighed.

"Hello, Logan," said Eric. "I-uh- I brought you a sandwich." He set a wrapped sub in front of Logan and nodded towards it, then took a step back.

"Where am I, Eric?" Logan asked.

Eric shrugged and looked away.

"Where am I?" Logan asked, this time more sternly.

"I can't say," said Eric quietly.

"Yes, you can," said Logan, a little bit more calmly.

"No. I can't. I'll get in trouble…won't like it…" Eric muttered, looking away from Logan.

"Who won't like it, Eric?" Logan said, his voice hard.

Eric didn't answer; he began to glance around the room nervously.

"_Eric!_" Logan shouted.

Still, Eric would say nothing.

Above them, Logan heard a door opening, and then the distinct sound of heels click-clacking their way down the hallway above them.

"Who is it Eric?" Logan demanded.

The click-clacking got louder as it began to descend the stairs.

"Eric!"

Eric shook his head as the door slowly opened.

**A/N: Ta-da! Any guesses yet? You'll find out in a few days, if you review! (:**


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